


Down Came The Rain

by Buckets_Of_Stars



Series: Peter Whump Dump [10]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Celebrational Fic, Doctor Bruce Banner - Freeform, Gen, Hair Washing, Hurt Peter, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Mama Bear Tony Stark, Peter Stark - Freeform, Platonic Bathing, Platonic Cuddling, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Rain, Self-Indulgent, Sick Peter, Thunderstorms, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Uncle Rhodey, baths, dad tony stark, enjoy, peter whump, son peter, uncle bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 11:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15436212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckets_Of_Stars/pseuds/Buckets_Of_Stars
Summary: When Peter’s suit goes off-line during a very massive and powerful thunderstorm, Tony does the right thing and worries.A lot.Luckily, Rhodey is a good friend and goes looking for Peter, leaving behind the still injured billionaire to pace the floor of the penthouse.He doesn’t have to wait long, but the state Rhodey finds his son in does nothing to ease the father’s worries.In fact, it seems to make him worry even more, if that was even possible.(Hint: It is.)





	Down Came The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this fic is a self-indulgent, celebratory fic for me getting over 500 followers on Tumblr. (YAY ME WHOOOOO \o/) so I hope you enjoy the fluff and whump!:D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.

* * *

 

It’s 10 minuets past Peter’s curfew and Tony is absolutely _not_ freaking out.

  
_Not at all._

  
“Tony, c’mon man,” Rhodey says from his place on the couch, watching as the totally not worried billionaire paces across the hardwood floor. “Its only been a little while, I’m sure Pete is fine. He probably just got caught up saving crime and didn’t notice the time yet.”

  
Tony nods along with his best friend, eyes never stopping as they trace the still blank screen of the _Baby Monitor Protocal_. Raising one trembling hand to his hair, the genius tugs at the strands.

  
“I know, Rhodes, I know. I’m probably just worried for nothing b—“ A boom of thunder cuts him off, the responding flash of lighting illuminating the dark streets below. “—ut I can’t relax right now. Not when Peter’s suit is off-line and there is a _fucking hurricane outside_.”

  
Tony feels his heart speed up, swallowing and walking with jerky steps toward the window, placing his palm on the glass and watching the rain pound outside. After a second, he sees Rhodey come up beside him, his worried gaze warped from the reflection.

  
“You know you can’t risk going outside right now, dude. After the last mission and your injuries, it’s not a good idea.”

  
Tony absentmindedly rubs at his still casted leg, the dull ache thrumming throughout his body. With a frown, the billionaire raises his phone to his eyes once more, feeling his frustration rise as the same blank screen greats him.

  
“I just feel—“ Tony clenches his fists, feeling the metal creak in his grip. “—so _useless_ , staying here and waiting while my son is outside. When he could be hurt. . . “

  
Rhodey sighs, his hand coming to rest against his brother’s shoulder. The soldier gives Tony’s arm a squeeze.

  
“If it would make you feel better, I’ll go look for the kid.”

  
Tony feels a flash of relief, as quick and as bright as the lightning streaming across the blacken sky. “Please.”

 

* * *

 

When Rhodey ends up finding his Nephew, the boy is curled up under the archway of a building a few miles from the Tower.

  
“Peter?” The man asks, ignoring the wet and dirty concrete as he lands the suit a few feet away from the shivering spiderling. “Bud?”

  
“U-uncle Rhodey?” The boy asks, rasing his head to look up at the man just as a bolt of lightening zips across the sky, illuminating half his face in a fierce white light.

  
His mask is clutched in one trembling hand, the fabric soaked and dripping a steady stream of water onto the sidewalk.

  
“Yeah, Pete, it’s me.” Holding out a hand to block out the pounding rain, Rhodey leans down, sucking in a quick breath at the state he finds the boy in.

  
Peter is soaked down to the bone, his nose and eyes a deep red from the cold and his body racked with shivers.

  
Shaking his head, the solider quickly scoops the kid up in his metal arms, feeling his heart break as his nephew lets out a groan at the movement.“It’s okay buddy. I’m gonna get you home, alright?”

  
Quickly tapping into the com at the Tower, Rhodey adjusts Peter in his arms as he flies into the air, trying in vain to keep as much of the pounding rain off the boy as possible.

  
Tony answers after the very first ring, his voice breathless and quivering with barely held back panic. “ _Did you find him?_ ”

  
Rhodey sighs, the sound staticky through the metal covering his face. “Yes but he’s in rough shape, Tone. I would recommend having a hot bath ready for him and—“

  
“ _What do you mean ‘rough shape’? Is he hurt? Bleeding? Do I need to call Bruce?”_

  
Rhodey grips Peter tighter as the teen mumbles something, a frown forcing his baby face to crinkle up against the cold. “He’s not bleeding, but I would call Bruce just in case.”

  
Even without being physically present, the solider knows that Tony is starting to pace, the sound of his cast thumbing against the floor barely audible over the hiss of the rain and the distant boom of thunder.

  
“ _Okay_ ,” The genius says, his words melting together in a stream of parental aggravation. “ _Okay, a bath I can do, yes—how far away are you?”_

  
Rhodey squints, the bright light of his suit clock a stark contrast to the dark world outside. “About 5 minuets out, I’ll send you a signal when we get closer. Just focus on the bath right now, Tony. I’ll make sure your boy gets home, okay?”

  
The genius hums his agreement, his hurried footsteps fading to nothing as his brother presses END. Looking down at his Nephew, the superhero is just about to mark the boy as passed out when his surprisingly weak voice reaches the soldier’s ears.

  
“Are w-we almost home, Uncle R-Rhodey?” He asks, coughing a little as the heavy downpour continues around them.

  
“Yeah, Pete.” The man says, increasing his speed, lighting zapping through the black and heavy clouds. ”We’re almost home, buddy.”

 

* * *

 

The first thing Tony does, before they are even fully in the building, is grab his son and wrap him in a big, fluffy blanket.

  
“Let me take him, honey bear.” Tony says, eyeing his child in almost frantic worry.

  
Wait, man.” The soldier says as his brother adjusts the clothe around Peter’s small frame. “Are you sure you can lift him—I mean, your leg and all?”

  
“Give me my son, Rhodey.” The tone is sharp, almost accusing, his friend’s dark eyes flashing in the pale light.

  
Quickly releasing the boy when Tony tugs him into his arms, Rhodey watches as his best friend gives him a quick nod in thanks, turning around and making his way toward the bathroom without a word.

  
As they walk, Peter’s head lobs against his dad’s chest, nuzzling against the soft cotton of the man’s shirt. His hands, as cold as ice and stiff, paw around Tony’s neck, loosely clutch the genius as his body continues to shiver. Tony’s injured leg begins to throb at the added weight but he grits his teeth, ignoring the pain as he focuses on getting his son to the tub and into the warm water waiting.

  
Peter body is ice cold against his own, the suit wet and sticky with rain and dirt from the New York City Streets. Tony feels concern flash through him, zipping through his veins with the speed of the falling star.

  
Looking back, Tony sees Rhodey glance down the hall only once before he disappears from sight, the sound of the fridge opening loud in the nearly silent penthouse.

  
“What were you doing out there, buddy?” Tony whispers, lifting his kid higher into his arms as he walks into the bathroom, a distant boom of thunder rattling the Tower around them.

  
The steam from the bath condensates on the mirror, causing it to fog up and drip a layer of warm water into the sink. Running one hand through Peter’s damp curls, the billionaire gives a sigh as he sets him down gently on the closed toilet seat, his blanket trailing around him like a cape.

  
“W-wait, Dad—“ Peter says, voice slurred. “Wh-what? How-how did I g’t home?”

  
Gently shushing his boy, Tony answers, making sure to keep his voice low and soothing. “Uncle Rhodes brought you home kiddie, flew you around and everything. Now we just need to get you warmed up.”

  
After pulling the blanket from around his grumbling son’s shoulders, Tony gently presses the spider on the front of the suit, the red and blue material retracting and pooling around his boy. Pausing only for a second to press a quick kiss to Peter’s damp brow, the thump of the pulse under his lips easing a pain deep in his core.

  
After a second, the genius sits the spiderling up, leaning the kid’s bony chin against his chest and gently pulls the wet suit from around Peter’s body.

  
“Dad?” The boy whispers against his collar bone, his big doe eyes blinking in the soft yellow light. “D-d-dad? I’m-I’m cold.”

  
“I know, Pete, shh, I know.”

  
Feeling frantic now as Peter’s lips start to turn a tinge of light blue, the superhero transfers his son’s shaking body into the tub, the warm water wrapping around his son’s thin frame. Sitting down on the side of the bathtub, Tony tries to situate his cast so that it doesn’t bump against the side, his leg shooting out in a sting of muted agony. Tony ignores the pain once more.

  
Peter lets out a small whine as the warmth sinks into his bones, his head tilting down and his chin bumping against his chest as his eyes slip shut once more.

  
“Feel better, kiddo?” Tony asks, reaching over and grabbing the cup on the side of the tub.

  
Peter just hums in confirmation, sinking deeper into the water as his father gently begins to wash his hair, his fingers running through the soft locks again and again as the mud and chilly water gets dragged out. Bubbles fall around his thin frame, sticking to the tape of his neck and trailing down his chin as the suds build.

  
“You gotta tilt your head up now, buddy.” Tony whispers, gently raising the full cup of water above Peter’s head as his kid slowly blinks his eyes back open.

  
“Can’t,” The spiderling says, his chin tilting back down after a second. “Too t’rd.”

  
Shaking his head and adjusting his bandaged leg, the billionaire cups Peter’s chin in his free hand, smoothing his thumb across the soft skin of his child’s cheeks and feeling love bloom in his chest when Peter tilts his head against his palm. Wiping the soap from around his kid’s eyes, Tony washes away the shampoo with a slow waterfall of liquid, watching as Peter begins to fall asleep, his chest rising and falling.

  
Leaning back once Peter’s hair is cleaned, Tony reaches over and grabs a fluffy towel from the rack.

  
“Okay Peter,” The genius says, unfolding the clothe as he speaks. “Time to get out kiddie, gotta get you into your PJs and into bed.”

  
Peter’s brows draw together when Tony lifts him up, his question dying on his lips as his father makes soothing sounds under his breath. Wrapping his son up like a baby and carrying him into his room, the elder Stark gently sets him on his unmade bed.

  
“Dad?” Peter whispers, eyes lazily opening and closing as he slumps down, a small cough jumping up from his chest. “D-Daddy my throat kind-kind of hurts.”

  
Pausing in getting out the boy’s night clothes, Tony limps over to his side, worry making the air freeze in his lungs. Raising one hand to rest on his kid’s forehead, the genius frowns at the warmth he feels radiating off. Clearing his throat, Tony tries to stomp down his panic, giving Peter a small smile as the boy blinks up at him.

  
“It’s alright baby, Uncle Bruce is on his way.” He says, tilting his son up and getting him changed as quickly as possible.

  
“Oh, okay.” Peter responds, snuggling up to his father when the man sits on the edge of his bed.

  
Towel drying his son’s hair, the genius quickly runs back to the bathroom and grabs Peter’s comb, running his fingers through the boy’s delicate curls for just a self indulgent second before carefully smoothing down the tussled locks, watching with soft eyes as Peter yawns.

  
He had just settled Peter’s head into his lap when a knock at the door startles the man, his jump of surprise shaking the bed. Holding back a curse, the elder Stark glances at the door as he continues to play with his child’s hair, watching as Peter begins to drift off.

  
“Hey Tony,” Bruce whispers, hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks. “Rhodey said you wanted me to take a look at Peter?”

  
Indicating that his friend could come closer, Tony looks down at his sleeping son as the mutant stops at the foot of the bed. “Yeah, if you could check his temperature please? He was complaining about his throat earlier and he was outside for so long—I just want to make sure.”

  
Taking a thermometer out of his lab coat pocket, the Doctor makes quick work of checking Peter’s temperature and looking down his throat, the boy not even stirring once during the whole ordeal.

  
“Well?” Tony asks once Bruce clicks the flashlight off. “Is he okay?”

  
Tucking both items back into his pocket, Banner straightens up, his back cracking from the position. Reaching up to adjust his glasses, the other Avenger lets out a small sigh, a smile tugging his lips up.

  
“Peter will be fine. His throat does look a little red, but nothing a goodnight’s sleep and a hot meal tomorrow won’t fix.”

  
Eyeing his friend’s casted leg, Bruce reaches down and taps the plaster with a chuckle, his eyes reflecting the soft light of the lamp in the corner.

  
“Maybe I should take a look at your leg there, Tony.”

  
Rolling his eyes at Bruce’s concerned glance, the elder Stark gently adjusts Peter’s head on his lap as the sky above them rumbles for the final time that night. His son give a sniff, his brow crinkling as he sneezes, nuzzling closer after a second and reaching up. His fingers close around Tony’s leg, gripping the frantic of his pants.

  
“My leg is fine, Brucie.” Tony replies, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Peter’s ear, running his fingers through the soft locks after a second.

  
“Okay,” The Doctor says, already beginning to back up out of the room. “If you’re sure.”

  
Looking down at his child sleeping in his arms, the boy’s weight comforting and his body no longer shaking in cold and fear, Tony feels a love so fierce and powerful that it takes his breath away. Leaning down, the billionaire rests his lips against Peter’s forehead, his hands never stopping their soothing motions through his son’s hair and relishing in the steady hum of Peter’s pulse.

  
“I’m sure,” Tony says, looking up just as Bruce makes it to the doorway. “I have more important things to worry about right now.”

  
And as the other Avenger leaves, as Tony settles down fully besides his still sleeping child and pulls him fully against his chest, his head cushioned below the Arc Reactor and his whole body encased in Tony’s own, protected and safe and not outside in the wet and cold and cruel world, the genius knows that he would willingly break both his legs just for a chance to keep Peter close and in his arms.

  
He would do so much more for Peter, more than the boy even knows.

  
Much more than Tony suspects is even humanly possible.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments make my day!;)
> 
> If you want to follow my Tumblr/scream at me about IronDad, this is my username: Keep-A-Bucket-Full-Of-Stars.
> 
> Please come say hey if you want!:D


End file.
